


Heads Will Roll

by kittymaine



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, M/M, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22757977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymaine/pseuds/kittymaine
Summary: Geralt agrees to act as a bodyguard for Jaskier as he plays at a noble wedding. Geralt reluctantly agrees, but Jaskier refuses to reveal why the groom has it out for him. That should have been the first clue that this bodyguard gig would be different from Cintra.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 210





	Heads Will Roll

Geralt knew this was a bad fucking idea. Jaskier’s last protection job in Cintra was an amazing shitshow, he had no idea why he agreed to do this again.

Oh, wait. He did remember.

“You owe me,” Jaskier had accused him when he tried to decline. Geralt assumed he was talking about how Jaskier had bailed him out of jail two weeks before after he had drunkenly dumped three men into a latrine after they had attempted to carry off a woman kicking and screaming. One of the men had been the son of the jailer, so it hadn’t mattered much what the circumstances had been when it came to going before the judge.

Geralt could have argued that he had saved Jaskier’s skin from much more dire situations countless times before, but it seemed a little gauche. After all, Jaskier ended up in those situations while trying to compose ballads that ultimately were good for business. Besides, just because Cintra was an absolute disaster didn’t necessarily mean another noble wedding would go the same way.

What an idiot he had been.

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s terrified voice shouted from further down the hall. Geralt pushed his legs to pump harder, the thick muscles in his legs rising to the occasion.

The only real explanation Jaskier gave him as to why he needed a bodyguard to play this wedding was that he was on bad terms with the groom, though the groom’s parents were extremely fond of him. No amount of gentle prodding on Geralt’s part were able to get more out of him, so Geralt remained suspicious and on edge for the duration of the wedding and reception.

Unfortunately, while he was being distracted by the sister of the groom, Jaskier disappeared. It took less than three minutes of checking the back hallways of the castle to hear Jaskier screaming.

Someone must have shoved something in Jaskier’s mouth, because he no longer heard his cries for help, though it wasn’t hard to follow the sounds of grunts and a struggle to the last door on the left of the long hallway he was in.

Geralt skidded to a stop and kicked the door in, not sparing any time on a lock. The door exploded open with enough force that it slammed into the wall and almost swung closed again before Geralt could step through and stop it with one hand.

Jaskier was not in that room, but he was obviously nearby. Three men that looked like mercenaries stood in the room instead, swords out. Geralt gave them a grin that was all teeth. If coin was worth their lives, he was happy to take it from them. It was just business, after all.

He dispatched all three with little fanfare. They were obviously talented swordsmen, but they hadn’t had the years and years of experience that Geralt did. He could hear Jaskier tussling with the young Lord of the castle and didn’t like the odds of letting Jaskier struggle it out on his own for long.

Once the sell swords were downed, he burst through the next door in much the same way he had the first one. The scene that greeted him on the other side of the door was more than shocking. It sent a cold trickle of dread down his spine that was quickly burnt away by white hot rage.

The handsome young lord had Jaskier pressed into a lavish bed that took up most of the room. The lord was still in his wedding regalia, having just completed his marriage ceremony not three hours before. Jaskier’s clothes were ripped almost completely off him and had been cut in more than a few places. The lord held a gilded gold dagger in one hand, Jaskier’s blood dripping off of it in crimson ribbons, his other hand pressed savagely over Jaskier’s mouth, his fingertips digging deep into his cheeks.

Jaskier’s blue eyes, panicked and wild like a frightened horse, lighted on Geralt and he grunted in a wordless plea. It was what Geralt needed to unfreeze him from his spot by the door.

Before the lord had time to turn toward the door, Geralt had liberated his head from his shoulders in one sure stroke.

The head hit the wall with a heavy thud and fell to the floor. The body stayed in place for one long moment before the muscles got the message to untense and then the whole thing slipped to the floor. Jaskier laid stunned on the bed for a long moment, streaked in hot stinking blood before he seemed to gather himself enough to leap from the bed and put as much distance between himself and the now lifeless body of the young lord of the castle. He ended up pressed to the far wall of the room, trying to gather what was left of his shirt over his chest as he sunk down the wall onto the floor.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, surprised to find he was a little breathless. “Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling down in front of his friend.

Jaskier was still staring at the bed, as if he could see through it to where the body of his attacker lay crumpled on the other side. “Did you just behead Lord Alrym?” he asked in a thin voice.

Geralt glanced in the direction Jaskier was looking, but he couldn’t see through the bed so all he saw were the blood stained bed linens.

“Yes,” he answered shortly. “We should get you out of here,” he added when Jaskier continued to stare at the bed.

“That’s very impressive,” Jaskier said faintly. “That was just a normal long sword. The kind of strength it would take to make that clean of a cut...” 

Jaskier seemed ready to continue babbling in that faint stunned voice, so Geralt roughly grabbed him by his upper arms and wrenched him to his feet. Keeping his grip on the bard, Geralt pulled him out of the lavish bedroom that still held the dead body of the lord and into the antechamber with the mercenaries he had killed just moments earlier.

“You’re in shock,” Geralt said gruffly. He glanced around at the three mercenaries and then grabbed the smallest of them and started to divest him of his shirt. He had to pull off the man’s leather armor to get at the stained white shirt underneath, but once he had it he pulled it over the tattered remains of Jaskier’s shirt that he still clung to.

“It won’t be long before someone comes looking for the late lord and then they will surely call for the guard. It would be best if we were far away before that happens,” Geralt said as he led Jaskier briskly out the door and down the hall until he found a narrow servant’s staircase.

“You truly have a sixth sense for when I’m in danger. I thought I was going to quite literally get fucked,” Jaskier muttered, still sounding dazed.

Geralt and Jaskier reached the bottom of the staircase and jerked to a stop. Jaskier struggled to pull his arms through the holes of the stained shirt, but didn’t bother to tuck it in. Geralt peered carefully around the corners, looking up and down the hallway that the staircase let out to. He could hear people working and talking nearby, but none were in sight. He pulled Jaskier along behind him as he ducked down a dim hallway and quickly down another narrow hallway.

“You had been gone too long,” Geralt muttered once the sound of people nearby had dimmed sufficiently. “Though, I would have appreciated if you had warned me exactly what I was supposed to be protecting you against,” he grunted, ducking down another narrow uneven back staircase.

“I told you that Lord Alrym had it out for me!” Jaskier protested loudly.

Geralt shot him an angry look and loudly shushed him. They had reached the bottom of the second staircase and the sounds of horses and carriages were loud, obvious signs that they were nearing the exit of the castle. Geralt would still prefer to be out of the castle city before the guards started looking for him.

“Why would I assume that meant he wanted to-” Geralt stumbled on the word for a moment, but grit his teeth and pushed himself to say it, “to rape you?!” he snarled, just saying it filling him with a fraction of that white hot rage he had felt moments before.

Jaskier made a strangled sound of displeasure, but otherwise didn’t answer while he followed closely behind Geralt until they reached a large open door that led into a packed dirt courtyard that was small and only seemed to serve as a place to receive deliveries.

“I didn’t know that was what he was going to do,” Jaskier whispered urgently as they crouched behind an unhitched wagon and waited for a young boy to pass them by with a basket full of apples. “But, I knew he was angry enough to do something.”

Geralt glanced back at Jaskier. He looked tense and miserable, but at least the blank look of shock was banished from his face. He wanted to ask what sort of dealing Jaskier had with the dead lord in the past, but guessed that he wouldn’t like whatever he heard. He decided it would be wise not to ask at all.

“I know a healer two towns over,” Geralt said into the hush of the courtyard. The boy was struggling with his basket. It was much too large for him. “Once we are outside the city, we should head there to have you looked over.”

Jaskier scoffed quietly in his ear. “I’m not injured. I told you. Or, wait, did I tell you that? Either way, I’m not hurt I have no need for a healer.”

Geralt frowned in consternation, but didn’t answer. Jaskier could voice his opinion, but that didn’t mean that Geralt would agree with him. He would lead them toward the town with the healer that owed him a favor and deal with Jaskier once they got there.

Finally the boy fumbled inside with his overladen basket and Geralt took the opportunity to quickly dash out from behind the wagon with Jaskier quick on his heels. Once they were around the corner and out in the city itself, Geralt straightened and tried to take on a more casual pace. Jaskier followed his example after a moment.

Jaskier fumbled to try and tuck the bloody rips in his stolen shirt away, glancing nervously around them. “Did I already thank you for saving my, uh, virtue at the least?” Jaskier mumbled.

“Your thanks are not necessary,” Geralt grunted, not sparing a glance to Jaskier and his nervous fidgeting.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said firmly, stopping Geralt with a hand on his elbow. When Geralt looked back, Jaskier was staring up at Geralt with an earnest expression that made the base of Geralt’s spine feel like jelly. “Thank you,” Jaskier said in a low and fervent voice. “I escaped something quite terrible and perilous, because of you.”

Geralt swallowed the first two things that struggled up his throat because they felt like denials. Jaskier was right. What had almost happened had been quite terrible and more than a little perilous for someone who had been an exceedingly good friend to him.

“Any time,” he eventually pushed out, winning a warm smile from Jaskier in response. Coughing, Geralt took a few cautious steps forward and Jaskier followed. “Perhaps you can pay me back once we’re out of this wretched city,” Geralt sighed.

“Yes, that sounds excellent,” Jaskier enthused.

Together, they made their way through the winding narrow stinking city streets until they finally moved beyond the castle walls and into the relatively better spaced and better smelling farms beyond. Once the castle was just a looming behemoth on the horizon, some of the tension leaked out of both Jaskier and Geralt’s postures. It would still be a long trek until they were beyond the reach of the castle and they could probably never return again, but Geralt was ultimately happy that he had agreed to come. Jaskier was worn and stained, but he was whole and Geralt was grateful for that.


End file.
